Satellite sky, I’m tracing your name in the hush between sparks,
heartbeat in 6-string, moonlight drips slow on the frets.
We’re just vapor and hope, but your laugh is a comet—
I cup it in trembling palms, swear it burns brighter than mine.
If the dark pulls us under, I’ll fold every echo of you
into a pocket of dawn; quiet, I’ll orbit this moment
till sunrise confesses we never needed the stars,
only the breath we trade, acoustic and infinite.